It Was Love
by dgschneider
Summary: Booth and Brennan are back from their various corners of the Earth but things aren't as Bones had expected. Her desire for Booth's happiness finds her supporting a relationship that breaks her heart. What happens when Booth becomes aware of the pain he's causing. Set after the end of The Couple in the Cave S6E2
1. Chapter 1

It Was Love

The knock on her door was the first sound she'd heard in hours. It startled her. Only Booth would come to her apartment this late at night. Frantically she wiped at the tears with the backs of her hands as she tried to decide whether to answer it or pretend she didn't hear it.

"Bones." The pounding started up again. "Bones."

As hard as it was, she couldn't avoid it, what if he needed something? What if it was case related?

Uncurling from her position on the couch, she straightened herself as she made her way to the door.

"Hey." He eyed her, top to bottom, then looked over her shoulder, taking in everything in his view. "I was driving home from dropping off Hannah and saw your lights still on. Are you still working on the case paperwork? Do you need some help?" It was a lie. She knew it. He knew it.

"My place isn't on your way home?"

"Well, it was tonight, Bones. Are you okay?" He pushed a little, trying to get a better view. The case paperwork was spread out all over her coffee table. It brought back memories. So many nights they'd start on the couch and end up on the floor. Laughing, talking, he'd fallen in love with her that way. In the quiet private moments when he saw so much more of her than anyone in the world, including Angela.

She cleared her throat and stiffened her shoulders. "I'm fine, Booth, and please don't worry about the paperwork. I'll have it all to you tomorrow." There was a glass of scotch sitting on that coffee table, a glass of scotch and the bottle. Scotch wasn't really her thing - it was more his drink. Taking another step into her space, he looked a little deeper in her eyes.

"I'm here." He added, almost absently. "Let me help."

"Booth." It was a plea, a one word plea that begged him not to do this to her. He didn't listen. Taking another step, he was officially in her apartment. He closed the door behind himself and headed straight for the piles of case related data, pictures, reports.

Clapping his hands loudly then rubbing them together, as if he was anxious to jump in.

"Why are you really here, Booth, when you could be with Hannah?" There was exhaustion in her voice, a tiredness in her eyes that he'd missed earlier. She was always so blatantly honest that when she said she was happy for him he believed her, or maybe he just wanted to believe her. When he got Angela's message, her protective but rather angry message, he walked himself all the way back to where he met Bones at the coffee cart, replaying it all in his head.

"I'm here to help." He pulled out his best charming smile and sat down on the couch to see how far she'd gotten. "What's this?" Picking up several travel brochures, he flipped them over, opened, perused.

"Nothing, Booth, they're nothing." As she moved to grab them from him, he moved away, holding them just out of her reach.

"Bones, they're obviously something. Partners don't keep secrets, remember?"

At the moment, coming from him, a partners declaration seemed so absurd. She was sure her laugh of disbelief made that clear.

"I am considering options for my vacation time this year. There are several well respected digs that I could offer my services to, that's all."

"I just got my partner back and you're already considering leaving?" He threw it out there in a joking tone.

"I am just being prepared, Booth, you know that I…" she let the rest trail off. He knew her, used to know her. Her heart raced and her eyes fell closed as the emotion she felt welled up in her. If she opened her eyes, she was pretty sure tears would stream down her face. She kept them closed. "I am very tired, Booth, maybe we can finish this in the morning?" He placed his on hers. She cleared her throat and pulled away. Standing, she turned and dried her eyes, hoping that he didn't catch her act of self preservation.

Out of respect for her, he should leave, he knew that. But, Angela's message seemed to be haunting him. _You're killing her,_ she'd told him bluntly, _you're flaunting your beautiful Barbie girlfriend in her face, as she graciously talks about how happy she is for you, when it's ripping her up inside._ Apparently, Angela had been walking by the Founding Father's when Booth leaned over the table, meeting Hannah halfway for a kiss inches from Bren's face. Angela knew a lot, he wasn't sure how much was from what Bones said or didn't say and how much was from her own observations, but most of it, if he was honest with himself, was dead-on accurate. He'd sat there at lunch and flaunted his relationship, joked about their sex life, all in front of the woman he'd declared his love to less than a year ago. That's what stirred him, tormented him. He'd lectured her that very night, that love was putting the needs of another person above your own. He'd lectured _her_ on love and yet, she was the one making the sacrifice for his happiness.

His heart was pounding, he needed a reason to stay. "Hey, maybe I could get a drink before I go?" He motioned to the scotch. Temporarily defeated, she nodded and went to get him a glass. When she came back, she settled on the couch next to him and poured. He raised his glass. Hesitantly, she brought hers up, though for the life of her, she couldn't think of anything worth toasting.

"It was love, you know that right? It was love." His solid gaze locked with hers, it unnerved her. She couldn't help the gasp for air that escaped as her heart sunk. It felt like swimming in the ocean, grasping for air as the next wave slams down on you. In that moment of complete vulnerability, he saw everything she'd been hiding flash in her eyes. "And I'd do it again, Bones, I swear to God. I'd, I'd leave the hospital to come find you. I'd risk my career, disobey Cullen, bring you take out in the middle of the night. I'd step in front of that bullet again with no regrets. It was love, Bones, I need you to know that." Now she just looked confused. "You know what I'm trying to say here? About us and love and -"

"Stop." It came out flat. Her hands were up as she stood and started to pace. "Stop." She moved in silence, her bare feet on the dark bamboo flooring, she stared at the contrast. He watched her process. He loved to watch her think. This was the cruelest of turns, he had loved her but moved on before she could catch up. It was for the best, right? She didn't trust her ability to give him happiness, not like Hannah? She could barely breathe her chest felt so very weighted. Not even turning back, she walked towards her bedroom, begging her heart to hang on until she could seclude herself. "Let yourself out."

"No, no, Bones." He chased after her, grabbing at the sleeve of her shirt, until he could get ahold of her arm, hand over hand, he pulled her back. "It was love." He whispered, not understanding how this continued declaration made everything worse.

It started out strangled, she fought so hard not to show any emotion, then silent tears grew into sobs as he pulled her right into his arms. At first, she just stood stiff, arms still straight at her sides as he tried to hold her. He wouldn't let her go, just held her tighter. "It was love." Wanting her to understand, to know, that he had loved her, that he wouldn't change that. That his acts of love weren't foolish and illogical, as she had argued earlier in the evening.

She just had one question. "What is it now?" It _was_ love, he told her that over and over, but that gave her nothing to hold onto as her whole world, the world she anticipated coming back to, turned upside down and spun wildly out of control. There was silence, he couldn't answer. He didn't have an answer. But, he could hold her, he tightened his arms just a little more until he felt her body start to give, no longer resisting. Finally, her arms wrapped around him, she fisted his shirt weakly, as her tears started to fall again.

"I don't know, I don't know, but we'll figure it out, okay?" Overwhelmed, she felt her body give more and more of itself over to her growing sense of exhaustion, falling limp in his arms. He maneuvered them back to her couch where he sat slumped, her body fell on his. Jerks and sobs wracked her as he tried to comfort her. He couldn't handle her sobs, the tears broke him in a way that reminded him that what he had with Hannah was nothing like this, nothing as deep and meaningful. He combatted the sobs and silence by talking, trying to ease her pain. And while his mouth moved, saying all the right things, his hands ran softly across her back, gathered her hair and smoothed it, and gently brushed her continued tears away.

This was new for them, this kind of intimacy went beyond his patented guy hugs. It was so natural, disturbingly natural. And the small sounds of acceptance that she subconsciously let slip tugged at his heart. He felt every fiber of her trust him as her body lay still in his arms and she yielded to sleep. As she calmed, he felt his own pain rising up. He'd wanted this. He'd wanted it for so long and here when he finally gave up, when he finally moved on, that's when she realized she wanted it too? How cruel could the universe be to him? How much did God hate him? She stirred, moving, she readjusted herself until she nuzzled deep into his neck. Her lips soft against him, her breath warm, slow, even.

"I love you, Booth." A mumbled whisper, so soft he almost missed it. He wondered, in her sleepy state, if she'd even remember saying it in the morning, knowing full well he'd never forget.

"I love you too." It was a confession of his own, barely audible, given only when she'd settled back into a deep sleep. Settling in, he had no plans to wake her. He would hold her like this, while she slept, as long as she slept. "I love you too, Bones." He followed her into sleep.

ooooo0ooooo

_A/N A funny thing happened...okay maybe it wasn't funny at all. I was doing some research of a story I plan to write after Need is done and was doing a little late night research on Netflix. Rewatching S6 E2 was so terribly painful and raw. Then my mind started churning and this just kind of happened….let me know what you think...please...if you're interested, there's more._

_Thank you to craftyjhawk for correcting my grammar and keeping me on track! Especially when I think I'm off track and she sees I'm headed in the right direction!_


	2. Chapter 2

During the night, they'd slipped all the way down on the couch. Tangled in each other, they started to stir when the warm light of dawn peeked over the horizon, flooding her living room. His lips reached her forehead and pressed gently against her, pure, innocent. Languid and sleepy, they stretched against each other in that magical space between night and morning, between dreaming and consciousness.

Pulled quickly across the border when their cell phones both blasted annoying ringtones. She scrambled to climb off of him. It was a case. He went home to change, she'd already excused herself to get ready. He tried to chase her to talk, just for a minute, but she wouldn't have it.

"You're a good friend, Booth." Her eyes told a different story, one that saddened him, worried him. She disappeared into her bathroom, he left.

_A good friend_, it played in his mind. Is that what this was, all it was? The drive home was on autopilot, he didn't even remember it or climbing the stairs or getting his keys out. But, he'd never forget the look on Hannah's face as he walked up behind her, crumpled and creased from the night on Bones' couch wearing exactly what he'd been wearing when he dropped her off at the hotel. She'd been trying to rouse him and was just sliding the key in the lock to let herself in when he cleared his throat and took over.

"I told you, you have to wiggle it, then kick." Looking over the man, his calm demeanor in conflict with everything about his appearance. "Hey, I have a case, so I can't stay this morning." I can't stay, you can't stay, that's what he really meant.

"So, you're just getting home? You dropped me off hours ago, Seeley."

He let out a long tired sigh. He didn't have time for this, didn't want to face it right now. "I stopped by to help Bones with all that paperwork." After a long pause, he added. "I fell asleep on her couch."

A silent acceptance, a slow nod, another question. "She didn't wake you up?" She laughed lightly, awkwardly. "Send you home?"

"It was just paperwork, Hannah, we've done it a million times before and if I fall asleep, she usually just lets me sleep." That really wasn't true. Usually she'd make a grade A fuss about his back and force him to crash in her guestroom. Of course, normally, she wouldn't be asleep in his arms. His arms that ached to hold her again, to be back on that couch, to protect her from the pain he was causing her. "Look, I have to go. I have a crime scene to get to, Hannah. I just stopped by to change."

"Yes, of course." Bubbly as always, she covered well. Bounced through good mornings and goodbyes and promised to call later. He closed the door and let his head fall back with a sharp crack then pushed off and went to change. Why did everything in his life have to be so damned complicated?

His consternation showed when he got to the crime scene. "Nice of you to show up, Seeley." Camille jumped instantly down his throat. Looking around, FBI techs were all over, Angela was taking pictures, and Fisher, tall, lanky Fisher seemed to be assisting Cam. No Bones.

"Where's Bones?" She never let her interns out in the field, never, just didn't happen. If one weaseled their way out of the lab, it was only under her tight, almost oppressive, supervision. Cam rolled her eyes. "It's a relatively routine crime scene-"

"Really, Cam, because jumping maggots don't seem very routine to me?" Sarcasm dripped from every word. She ignored him and continued.

"She assured me that Fisher was ready and she needed some time in the lab this morning." Truth, it didn't get that far. Camille Saroyan was sensitive to the situation between her anthropologist and special agent. She'd heard about Hannah, met her briefly, listened, at length, to Angela rant about it. If Dr. Brennan didn't want to come to the crime scene, she'd accommodate her.

Fisher yawned. Booth rolled his eyes.

It was falling apart faster than he thought, last case he worked more heavily with Sweets than ever before. It was a little awkward with Bones, but that was to be expected. He knew things would have to change in some ways, but he'd kept working with her when she'd turned him down last year. Honestly, how was this any different? He excused himself to get a cup of coffee. Several feet away, he pulled out his cell phone. Angela shot a knowing look to Cam, who raised her eyebrows and shook her head in reply.

"Brennan." She sounded business like, crisp, clear, professional.

"I'm missing a partner. Beautiful morning, beautiful ocean, no beautiful partner." There was a defining silence, long, painful, then she cleared her throat.

"I got tied up with something else. Is there a problem with Fisher? I can be out there in an hour, if need be."

"Yeah, there's a problem with Fisher. Fisher's not my partner!" His irritation just as clear and crisp as her professionalism. Once again, dead air filled the line as she calculated each response carefully.

"If that's your only problem with him, I won't waste the time or resources of the Jeffersonian to join you at the crime scene." He, on the other hand, answered immediately, his frustration abundantly apparent.

"Be ready to go, I'm leaving now to pick you up. The vic had a wallet on him, no waiting for the ID." He hung up before she could respond and went to get that coffee.

The crime scene dragged on forever. Long enough to cancel a lunch with Hannah which, today, was a good thing. A long drive back to the Jeffersonian, rock n roll blasted through the SUV speakers, and the day seemed to be turning around. He felt his mood finally start to even out. He was genuinely in a good place when Bones climbed into the truck and closed the door. She asked questions, he filled her in, which took all of about ten minutes, but it felt normal, like them before Afghanistan, before Hannah. This could be normal, _they_ could be normal, he told himself.

The drive back to the Jersey Shore was filled with her observations about the "Guido tribe" and excitement for the opportunity to see them in their natural habitat. Terminology, habits, and rituals as well as tribe dynamics excitedly shared as they drove. He loved seeing her like this, he'd listen to crazy-ass boring facts all day if she was excited about it, if she found pleasure in it, he did too. Booth relaxed, this was them, old them. He'd consoled her last night, that was all, consoled her and himself over the loss of something that would never be between them. And today, today got off to a rocky start, but they'd found their groove and moved on.

The breeze blowing her hair, her eyes sparkling with anticipation as they walked along the shore line. Hannah called and it was okay. Bones, said hi to her, Hannah said hi back. This might work afterall. In passing, Hannah mentioned switching hotels. In passing, Booth invited her to move in. When the call was finished, everything seemed a bit more precarious, quiet.

Brennan expressed her concern that the ritual transpired with far too little fanfare, Hannah, might feel gypped by Booth's lack of formality. He saw it then, she was deep into her role as an anthropologist. Things weren't normal between them, they were buried. Every step, every observation, a shovel full of dirt. She was just an observer, of this case, of her own life, of his life, removed. A temporary quietness fell over them, quickly replaced by the discovery of the beach house they'd been looking for and relief.

She adopted the language and mannerisms of "the tribe" as she called them, over interpreted their actions, explained them like a translator on the National Geographic channel shows that Parker watched. It was almost too much. Her exaggerated acceptance of their new situation, "the tribes" over exaggerated reaction to Ritchie's death. He welcomed the quiet as they settled into the truck and headed back to DC. Welcomed it until it dragged on and on. She looked out the window silently, never reacting to his rubber neck darting between her and the road. She answered questions with short one word answers or merely nodded her agreement or disagreement. When he asked what was wrong, she shrugged or mumbled.

"Nothing."

"I'm fine."

"Just tired."

Until his frustration level was so high, his nerves so shot, he pulled the truck over in the middle of nowhere and let it come to a jarring stop.

"Booth!" She was outraged.

He was already out of the truck and halfway around to her door. He wasn't going to get the upper hand here, she wouldn't allow it. Exiting the SUV, she slammed the door and took on an instantly defensive stance, then waited. Hands on his hips, he paced back and forth in the dirt shoulder, muttering to himself. Then turned sharply to her and began to rant.

"You turned me down. _You_, do you remember that? I said I wanted to give it a try and _you_ told _me_ no, remember?" He hated the fear he saw in her eyes, masked thinly by her false bravado. "_You_ turned _me_ down and I told you, I told you, I would have to move on. You agreed, _you_ agreed that I had to move on, right?" She stared coldly catching him straight in the eye. "Right, so I did, I moved on and suddenly, I'm the bad guy." He nodded his head affirming himself then turned away. The woosh of passing traffic was the only sound as they stood there, neither one of them willing to face the other at the moment. He felt sick to his stomach, queasy, and held his breath until he heard her voice strong, stubborn, then turned to listen.

"I never said that you were, Booth, never treated you like you were. I have been nothing but polite. I, I have expressed my happiness for you, for your relationship, to _everyone. _Even, even when they wanted me to be upset, to be angry at you, to hate Hannah. I have told them _all_ that this is what you need to have, peace and fulfillment and that I _want_ that for you." Tears overflowed and beaded on her cheeks, she ignored them. "I never asked you to come over last night. In fact, I tried to spare you this. I didn't want to let you in. I asked you to leave, but you didn't leave. You wouldn't leave."

There was the most painful part, right there, thrown out into the air, into the world. He didn't leave, he wouldn't leave. The one person who didn't leave her, that wouldn't leave her, she couldn't have. It didn't matter whether it was her joy or her tears, her happiness or her pain. Whatever she felt was tied directly to his heart. It made him fly or fall so hard there was no recovery. Closing the gap between them, he silently reached out to wipe her tears, she jerked.

"You're right, you didn't do this, I'm sorry, you're right." His heart was twisted in knots.

"I will adapt, Booth. I just need…" She took a deep breath, closing her eyes as he gently wiped at her tears. "I just need some time." She was working so hard to pull it all back together, he could see that. "Just some time." She looked up at him as she tried to straighten herself, collect everything and cram it back under control. "It's just more difficult than I expected." Taking a step back, she took over the management of her own tears. Another breath, another step, until she leaned back against the truck. He joined her, standing right beside her.

"We're going to be okay, right?" Nudging her shoulder, she smiled, forced but believable, and nodded.

"Yes."

"We've made it through worse." It was affirmation, though, at the moment, he couldn't think of anything worse. Her hands deep in the pockets of her trench coat for warmth she nodded, considering his statement. She wanted to believe they would make it through this. She couldn't imagine losing all of him when losing the potential of something more hurt this badly. That would be devastating.

"Yes."

He turned so quickly that she gasped at his closeness, standing over and around her, her back still pressed against the side of the truck. He held his hands out motioning for hers, he wanted to hold her hands. She looked painfully into his eyes, but produced her hands placing them gently in his.

"Promise me, promise me we'll make it work." He squeezed her hands, gentle but firm. "Promise me."

"Okay." Letting out a long breath, she tried to focus anywhere but his eyes. "I promise." It was easier than she thought, captivated by their hands, his bigger hands played with her fingers. "I promise."

"Good." He pulled her up. "Because, your hands are freezing, which means you probably are, too. You need to get back in the truck and I need to put the heater on to warm you up."

"Booth." She whined and shook her head at his protective nature, but happily got back in the truck. This was hard, possibly the hardest thing she'd ever done, but underneath all of this confusing and distasteful emotion, they were still them. He was still Booth. She'd seen glimpses of that, glimpses that gave her hope, enough hope to hold on.

ooooo0ooooo

A/N Thank you so much for supporting and encouraging my distraction! It has completely swept me away. Don't worry though, I will have the next chapter of Need up soon. )

In the meantime...what do you think of chapter 2? I saw a picture recently of a tip jar - it said that reviews were the writers tips! That's so true, it's the feedback that makes it all worth it!


	3. Chapter 3

He stood there holding that red bow, following her to the door, protected in his hall. His eyes longing to connect with hers, to say he was sorry for kissing Hannah in front of her like that. She'd come at him, if he didn't kiss her back, well, it wouldn't have been good. He hoped she saw that in his eyes. Hoped she saw his respect, his thankfulness, his concern for what this was doing to her. What he saw in hers was a brave and hasty retreat. She wouldn't see what he wanted to say to her to, it was all about self preservation for her at this point, survival. Her words from their post case drink the other night still haunted him. _If we don't look out for ourselves_, spoken as one that hadn't had anyone to look after her in years. He tossed the bow at Hannah.

"I forgot, I need to tell her something about the case." And he was gone, calling after her down the hall, bolting down the stairs, racing the elevator, out the door to the street front. "Bones wait!." He slammed his hands down on the hood of her car to get her attention. She jumped, threw the car in park. He could barely hear her, but he knew before she opened the door and stood that he was being lectured.

"I could have killed you, Booth, what were you thinking. Forget that, clearly you weren't thinking. No one who was thi-"

"No, I was thinking. I was thinking I had to tell you something before you drove off. I was thinking that I'm sorry, that kiss, I'm sorry for that. Sorry, that you got dragged into tonight. I didn't mean t-"

"Booth, I chose to come. You don't have to be sorry for what I chose to do. The kiss was an expected show of affection after a gift was given in evidence of the social contract that you and Hannah have entered into to live together. I expected it." Her voice drifted. "I'm fine." She was lying, he could see that. Stepping closer, he now found her within his reach just her car door separating them. He leaned on it, leaned in, swung on it a little, coming closer then drifting back away.

"Thank you, by the way." He mumbled a little, his cheek resting on his folded arms. "For the phone, thank you."

"It wasn't from me, it was from Hannah." Looking away, she let her words float away on the relentless wind that continued to swirl her hair around her face.

"I know."

"I just wanted to see your expression." She let it go at that, that was enough.

Hannah watched from the window above as Booth swung back and forth towards her until he swung in and stopped. Fingering a bit of hair that kept blowing across her face, he tucked it behind her ear. They were so comfortable with each other, an observation anyone could make. The investigative reporter in her certainly didn't miss it, even though she wanted to. Their conversation seemed to cycle so quickly, though she couldn't hear it, their body language went from angry and insistent, to friendly and tender. Then he grabbed her hand, pulled her around the car door, and into a quick hug, letting her go and bounding back toward the apartment.

She went back to the couch, moving the red bow and sitting back down before he re-entered the apartment.

"Did you catch her?" He came around the corner barely winded, lost in thought.

"Huh? Oh, yeah, yeah, I caught her, barely." He chuckled softly as he got a glass and poured himself a glass of wine and sat down on the couch. "So, how did you end up with a living room full of lady squints?" He sounded casual but there was a part of him that was put on edge when he'd walked through his apartment door to a room full of the Jeffersonian's best and brightest. Now keenly aware of Bones' pain over the situation, he felt protective.

She groaned. "Work."

"Work took you to the Jeffersonian's Medico-Legal Lab?"

"No, boredom took me there. Things are so slow with the White House Press Corps, I swear I could do the job in my sleep." She scooted closer to him on the couch, trying to bridge a distance that seemed to be more than just space. "I wanted to get you a gift, to celebrate and I figured Temperance could help me pick one out that would be meaningful." He nodded, taking a drink of his wine deliberately, giving himself time to think.

"And she was helpful, obviously." He smiled sweetly at her.

"Yes." Moving closer still, she aimed to tuck herself under his arm that was stretched out over the back of the couch. "Obviously." She was about to take a bit of a risk, and though she was a bit nervous about it, she in no way let it show. "It was helpful in many ways, actually. I learned a lot from my visit."

"You did?" Two could play at the innocent investigative game and Booth was no slouch. She was wrong to think that being an investigative reporter gave her the edge. He used similar skills everyday. "Like what?" He pulled her closer giving her a false sense of intimacy. He wanted to know what she'd learned and more importantly what she'd done.

"Hmm, let's see, I learned that your partner is a very good friend, she's very protective of you."

"Protective?"

"She told me that if I wasn't serious about this relationship I shouldn't pursue it." She let her fingers dance across his chest, intentionally distracting him. "She said that you would give one hundred percent of yourself to me."

"Hmmmm." He nodded in affirmation.

"She doesn't want to see you hurt." He smiled. "She said that the two of you had become very close as friends." Pulling back just enough to watch his reaction, she added. "Close out of necessity." His eyes drifted, she could feel his heart race under her hand. All the false fronts in the world couldn't hide these subtle indicators.

"Yeah, yeah, we have." That was all he offered. "Out of necessity." A warm look played in his eyes as a knowing smile spread across his face. She could see there was a lot more there than he would admit to, certainly more than he seemed willing to share.

"Yeah, necessity, that was her word." She begged for more information. He joked around, called it a partner thing, then swore that he'd tell her but it was classified, he'd have to kill her if he told her.

She let it go. "Then, Angela caught me on the way out." A calculated move, knowing he'd want to know what Angela said, she intentionally laid that card on the table, silently offering an information swap. I'll tell you what Angela said if you tell me what it means to be close because of _necessity_.

Booth leaned forward grabbing some cheese and crackers that had been brought out with the wine popping it in his mouth. No need to take that bait. He was pretty sure he knew exactly what Angela would say given the opportunity. Her frustration was obvious as he gathered himself up off the couch and headed off to make dinner.

Hannah watched from the table as he cut up vegetables for a salad, his jaw tense and popping. His knife coming down hard and fast. Everything had been so easy for them in Afghanistan, she never thought that they would have any problems stateside.

"Easy there, soldier." Moving beside him, she tried to lighten the mood. Setting the knife down, he looked around taking a deep breath. Wrapping her arms around him, she pulled him into a kiss. This is where his mind should be, in this moment, with her. Letting himself fall into her embrace, he reached for her mouth, for the comfort of her lips. But when he closed his eyes, all he saw was Bones, sitting on his couch looking up at him, brave, stoic, even while being crushed. He felt like he was committing an act of infidelity. By kissing Hannah, he felt like he was cheating on a woman he'd never been in a relationship with. God, what was he supposed to do? He pleaded with a maker he was pretty sure had abandoned him.

Pulling away, he took a minute to breathe then turned back to Hannah. "It's not you." Now he officially bore the guilt of hurting two women. "It's me." His mind sought fast and hard for an out. "I'm just having a hard time adjusting back, you know, with work and civilian life." He looked around his small kitchen. They hadn't even eaten. "It's almost ready, you eat, okay? Do you mind if I, I just need to go blow off some steam. I'll be back, I promise."

He saw the concern in her eyes, concern and disappointment. Not the celebratory first night of living together she'd been hoping for. But he couldn't do it, couldn't kiss her with pictures of Bones haunting him. He needed to think, sort things out, get them straight in his brain. To take a page from his partner's book, he needed to compartmentalize. A good round in the gym and some time at the firing range would do it. He could get it all back together.

He was gone before she could even answer.

It felt good. He worked a circuit in the gym, then hit the heavy bag hard, pouring out the frustration and confusion. He left it all there in the gym. A hot steamy shower, fresh clothes, then onto the firing range. Bones was tough, he reminded himself. She wanted this for him. She'd said to him, to Hannah, congratulating them both. Even at the car, tonight, she reminded him that she wanted him to be happy, he deserved to be happy. He should let her be tough.

The more he tried to reason it out, the more miserably he failed because he knew it was a facade. He'd worked so hard over the years to get behind those tall thick walls of hers. He was single handedly responsible for tearing so many of them down, and now, when she needed him most, he realized he had left her defenseless. It seemed particularly cruel.

And then there was Hannah. Hannah didn't know their history, this part of his history. She was completely unsuspecting. It had all been so perfect and easy when it was just her, just her and the desert and war and nothing, not one word from Bones in months. She was soothing and simple.

He unzipped his handgun case, pulled out his protective eye gear and ear plugs, setting himself up with enough targets and rounds to last awhile. The earplugs already in one ear, he heard the annoying call of Sweets. "Agent Booth?"

"Sweets." He just wanted to disappear, not dodge questions from Mr. Shrinky.

"I thought you would be home with Hannah tonight, celebrating."

Booth only nodded.

"I had a fight with Daisy. Thought I'd come down here and blow off some steam." The boy made some kind of fluid old west gunslinger motion that made Booth shake his head in absolute disbelief, then laugh when he pretended to blow the smoke off his pointed, pretend finger guns.

"Hope you work it out, kid." Booth turned his attention back to his own release so fast he almost didn't catch what the boy said next.

"How weird that you and Dr. Brennan would end up here at the same time. You having a hard time? Is there anything you need to talk about?" Booth didn't even hear what he said next, it all blended into a garbled mess like the Peanuts teacher from cartoons.

"She's here?" He interrupted.

"Yeah, yeah, she'd down at the very end." Sweets would know, it was his preferred spot to shoot. So far down at the end, it was almost dark. No agents went down there. Sweets was just learning to shoot. It was a great place for him to practice and not feel the pressure of being surrounded by master marksmen. Booth nodded. Brennan never went down to the end. She wasn't intimidated by any of the FBI's best, she held her own.

"Thanks." For barely a split second, he debated whether to go down there or stay where he was. He gathered his belonging and headed down her way. In the shadows, he watched her systematically destroy one target after another. Precise, consistent, a little off but not enough to make a difference in the long run. It was her stance, her stance just needed a little correction, a course correction, and everything would line up perfectly. He could see it. Exactly what would make it all line up perfectly.

Booth came up behind her, wrapped his body around hers from behind, pulling one of her earplugs out where she could hear him. She never flinched. Without a sound, he adjusted her body, feet, hips, waist, arms. She carefully counted breaths, measured perfectly even, in and out, equal. He couldn't have measured his breathing if he tried, it was erratic and heavy on her neck and jaw and ear.

"Try that." A clean, crisp shot straight to the heart. "Perfect." He whispered against her ear, breaking her conscientious breathing pattern. He wanted so badly to hold her, to kiss her. He couldn't. He couldn't do that to either of them.

Turning suddenly, frantic, panicky, she swallowed hard. "I have to go." She moved to the side to go around him, but she was still in his arms, surrounded by Booth.

"I can't let you." He wanted her here, wanted his friend, his partner. He needed her tonight.

"I have to go." She stopped, her eyes begged him to not keep her where she was so painfully faced with what she wanted but couldn't have.

"I can't let you go." He moved in closer.

"I have to go, Booth, for you, I have to go."

"I can't." Finally catching her eyes completely, she saw it, it was a confession, his confession to her. It was so much larger, deeper than this moment, than tonight. "I've tried and I can't." She saw his collapse coming. "I can't, I just can't let you go." He fell into her arms, just for a minute, just long enough for her to feel him rally his strength.

"I promised, remember, I promised, you promised. We will make it through this. I won't leave, you won't leave. We will make it through this, Booth. We're partners. I have to leave for tonight, but I'm not leaving you, Booth, I promise."

He pulled himself back together, straightened himself up and watched her. Swallowing hard, she grabbed her bag and left, looking over her shoulder until she turned the corner of the range where he couldn't see her anymore. As soon as she was past that corner, she gasped for air as great sobs escaped her. She ran the rest of the way to the parking garage, to her car.

She thought she'd spared him, thought she'd held out long enough, put enough distance between them, but the firing range echoed, he heard her strangled sobs, heard her feet hit the pavement at an ever quickening pace. He stumbled back against the shooting stall's table, closed his eyes, and listened until he couldn't hear her anymore.

ooooo0ooooo

I have learned some things from this story.

1) In addition to her wonderful writing skills and great beta reading, Craftyjhawk may be the single most patient person on the planet. She has endured many, many, frantic panicky emails and messages from me as I sorted through this mess, I mean story.

2) I am not alone in my inability to watch the first half of season 6 because it is just too painful! You can imagine my mood the last couple days as I have sorted through this mess we call the beginning of season 6.

3) It doesn't get better. No matter how many times I watch those episodes or just part of those episodes they are every bit as awkward and gut wrenching and painful. Which leads me to my own firm conclusion.

I will fix this, I promise. Thank you to all that are sticking with me through this painful exploration. Things are at that boiling over place where people often have to get before they can start to fix things that are out of order in their life. We are just about there.


	4. Chapter 4

Hannah's bags, four of them, and a box still sat exactly where they were when he left for the gym, untouched. He closed the door softly and went through the routine of hanging his keys and putting his gun in the safe.

"I'm back." He announced himself. He could hear Hannah, hear her angry typing in the other room. Angry typing was something Bones had introduced him to. Loud, banging, fast paced, a warning to give her time and at least a little space to work through whatever was upsetting her. Admittedly, he didn't know what it meant when Hannah engaged in angry typing, but he was pretty sure he was about to find out.

"You forgot your phone." He realized that he'd forgotten it when he was done at the range. He wanted to text Bones, make sure she was okay, apologize or something to make it right with her, he hadn't figured that out. "Someone's been trying to reach you." Her sharp tone was biting. He walked around the pile of luggage to get to his phone. Before he unlocked the screen and checked the messages, he stopped and looked at Hannah curled up in the corner of his couch, her laptop on her lap. The typing had stopped.

"I'm sorry." He rolled his lips, fidgeting a bit more than normal. "I shouldn't have just left you here like that." She let his apology hang in the air until it was uncomfortable, awkward for both of them.

"Well." Pulling herself from the couch, her movements calculated and smooth, she took the phone from his hand and set it back on the coffee table. "You could always make it up to me, soldier." She moved his arms, his hands, so they wrapped around her body. His tension and avoidance painfully obvious.

"Hannah, I can't, not tonight." Certainly not until he got this whole mess sorted out, it wouldn't be fair to her.

"Really, because I think it's exactly what you need. Like when we were in Afghanistan, just a little stress reliever, relax, just be in our own little world. Just us and a certain fig tree." She giggled as she lay soft kisses on his neck and arms. She even started pulling at his t-shirt, but he didn't move, didn't relax, didn't engage.

As he started to pull away from her touch, as he bristled under her kisses, she got more and more frustrated and angry. She looked up to see his eyes closed, not with passion, not in irresistible reaction to her touch, closed as if he were fiercely defying every move she made. Letting her arms fall to her side, she plopped back down on the couch.

"Do you want to talk about this? Whatever's bothering you, we can talk about it." He just shook his head, no. "What do you want to do then, Seeley? What's the answer?"

"Just sleep, I just need some sleep. I promise we'll talk about it tomorrow." He opened his eyes and stared straight into hers. "I promise tomorrow morning, but tonight I just need to sleep." Rolling her eyes in frustration, she folded her arms over her chest. Grimacing when he grabbed his phone and turned to head towards the bedroom.

"It's Temperance, isn't it?" He stopped, but didn't turn around. "I think you may have understated your relationship with her when you said the two of you were solid. Seems to me you're way more than solid, Seeley."

"Hannah." Shoulders slumped, body coursing with tension, he didn't want to have this conversation now. It was nearly midnight, he was exhausted, no matter how hard he tried, he was sure he wouldn't be able to explain this in a way that would make sense to her. His ah-ha moment was still in process, he needed to think all the way through it, decide, be sure of himself before he acted. It wasn't fair to ask her to wait, to just be left hanging until he'd worked all the way through it, but he couldn't do this any other way. He started to walk away again, but was caught mid-step by her piercing words.

"The hottest platonic love affair ever, that's what Angela told me. She warned me. She said that you didn't know how much you loved Temperance and that Temperance didn't know how much she loved you and that I was stepping in the middle of a 'hot mess' that was only going to get worse." He hung his head. Damn Angela, never could keep her nose out of anything or her mouth shut. "She compared me to gasoline being poured on your fire. Not ours, not me and you, your fire, your flame for Temperance."

"We'll talk about it tomorrow, Hannah." He left the room. "I promise."

She did not want to wait until tomorrow, she wanted to have it out now. She wanted him to deny what Angela said. Wanted him to reassure her that accepting an assignment stateside, in the capitol, a bland, boring, assignment, wasn't a mistake. She wanted their passionate, fun, simple relationship back and she didn't want to wait for tomorrow.

"Do I need to get a hotel room?" She hollered after him.

"No." He answered from the bedroom.

He stripped and changed into baggy sweat pants then slid under the covers. Worried about Bones, he tried to think of the right thing to say. If he said he was sorry, it would be a lie. Having her close, he needed that more than he could admit right now. If he said he shouldn't have, she'd might take it wrong, probably would take it wrong. He didn't want her to think he regretted being close to her. It was horrible,he felt bad for hurting her, he'd obviously made it harder and he knew he should feel bad for the closeness, for the desires he didn't act on, but he didn't, couldn't.

The messages had been from her, several of them, all basically asking if he was okay. He worried her. He answered the only way he knew how to tonight.

_I'll be fine_

It wasn't long before she responded.

_I find little comfort or relief in your answer though I believe that was your intent. Clearly, it indicates you are currently not fine, which I find concerns me _

It made him smile, even laugh just a little. It was her, so very, very her. Honest, upfront, caring, he didn't know how she couldn't see what a big tender heart she had. It was the first real relief he'd felt all night. Affirmation that the decisions he made at the shooting range were the right ones.

_Thanks, Bones. You are too good to me._

The woman that told him she didn't have an open heart, that she couldn't be with him because she would end up hurting him, was the best woman he knew. He wished she could see it. He wished he could tell her, show her. They went back and forth for a few minutes, then called it a night. He sunk into his pillows and begged sleep to take him away.

He barely stirred when Hannah came to bed. She tried to snuggle up to him, but even in sleep he was agitated and restless. Tossing and turning he mumbled, sometimes he even sounded like he was begging or pleading. She couldn't make it out clearly, but her overly sensitive mind was sure he called out for Temperance.

He did.

His dreams were torture, the universe or God playing with him. Over and over again, he dreamt of the women in his life, bits and pieces, one memory at a time, real memories, until whoever that woman was turned into Bones. Tessa, Rebecca, Katherine, going all the way back to high school and his daring nights under the bleachers with nothing but a cheerleader and a sleeping bag. And then Hannah, of course, Hannah, too, in the throes of passion under the fig tree they'd first made love under. In that moment of intimacy, when they were the closest, as he kissed and caressed and loved each of these women, he'd pull back just to see them, and it was Bones, every time, it was Bones.

Seething with frustration and anger, she lay next to him in bed, a bed that was supposed to be theirs. In the storm of hurt and betrayal, she decided to test out her theory on their relationship troubles for herself. Slipping down under the covers she pulled herself next to Booth, cradling him from behind. Running her hand smoothly along his hip, she worked her way under the waistband of his boxers, lower and lower, until she felt him reacting instinctively to her touch. Before he could wake all the way, she put her lips to his ear and whispered.

"Booth."

She never called him Booth, she called him her soldier, called him Seeley, but never Booth. Before she could even take a breath, he'd flipped her and tucked her underneath him, letting his hands wander as his kisses grazed her neck. Something was off, he felt it, just like in his dreams. In those couple of seconds that passed, he sought answers, calling out to the woman he thought lay beneath him.

"Bones." It came out tender, a hopeful reaching, yearning for it to be real.

What happened next was lost in that state between deep sleep and wakefulness. He'd called out for Bones as he simultaneously opened his eyes to a sea of blond curls, swallowed up, drowning. It felt like his heart flipped, slamming against his chest as she struggled beneath him, fighting to get away. Punching, hitting, clawing, it took a minute to set reality straight. He rolled off of her and jerked his body from his bed. Leaning over, his hand on his knees for support he gasped for breath, strangled by what had just happened. Hannah stood on the other side of the bed, watching, shaking in complete disbelief. She'd caused it, she knew that, and she'd done it on purpose, baited him, but that, that which had just happened, wasn't even on her list of possible outcomes.

"I can't stay here." Tears streamed down her face. "I can't stay with you."

He didn't argue.

"I, I was going to talk to you about it tomorrow."

"Well, I think it's pretty clear we needed to talk about it tonight."

"I just needed some sleep." Straightening up, he rubbed his face vigorously. "I'm sorry, Hannah, this is all me, all my fault." Turning to her for the first time, really trying to connect with her, he tried to explain. "I thought I was over her, thought I'd moved on but, God, I still love her."

"Oh." Booth walked around to where Hannah stood and sat on the bed. "She's the girl you loved, the one that broke your heart." It all connected now, her suspicions confirmed. "But you said you never had that kind of relationship with Temperance." She stared down at him as he sat on the bed. The tension between them finally finding its voice, a release, no longer pent up and overflowing.

"I wasn't lying." He wanted to be clear on that, wanted her to know that he hadn't expected all of this. "We've never been more than partners and friends, best friends, never a relationship beyond that. I thought, I just thought I was over her, you know? Thought I could move on, find someone else, b-"

"Me."

"You." He sat slumped over himself, elbows on his knees, head resting in his hands.

"The hottest platonic love affair ever." She repeated Angela's words, the ones she'd thrown at him earlier. This time, there was a sense of resignation in her voice. Angela, so nosey and so aggravatingly right.

He started to apologize for her lost position, the sacrifices that she was been willing to make to try and be together, for hurting her. She stopped him, it was unnecessary to rehash it. Besides, she confessed, she'd already contacted her producer about getting her position back, something he didn't think would be an issue at all. Admittedly, that had been angry typing. Now she just wanted to leave, get away from it all, get away from him. She called a taxi, got dressed, made hotel arrangements from the living room while he got some jeans and a t-shirt on so he could help her with her bags.

Dressed, he sat back down on the bed staring at his feet as he tried to gather his thoughts. His heart ached. It ached for Hannah, for what he'd subjected her to. It ached for Bones, for what he wanted, what he wasn't sure he'd ever have with her. Though he'd seen her pain at the sight of him with another woman and she'd told him she loved him, she never said outright that she would take a chance on him. He could be giving up something he had for something he wanted that may never happen, he knew that. He also knew he couldn't be with another woman while he felt so completely in love with Bones. Somehow, in these few short weeks, he'd managed to make everyone's life miserable. At the moment, he couldn't shake the dreams of Bones or the horror of realizing he had been towering over Hannah.

The buzz of his cell phone interrupted his thoughts as he tried to process everything that had happened, that was happening. It was Bones.

_I find I can't sleep. Are you fine yet?_

He flopped back on the bed, eyes darting over the screen, he didn't know what to say. Bones loved the truth, and he didn't have the energy for pretense, so he went with the truth.

_No_

She felt a franticness rise up within her when she got his answer. No, he wasn't okay. Her heart pounded.

_Where are you? _

He answered back quickly.

_Home - Hannah's leaving_

Dropping the phone on the bed, he took a deep breath, time to face the music. He went out to haul her luggage downstairs and wait for the cab with Hannah. Four bags, one messenger, one carry on, one duffle, one suitcase, and a box. All stacked back by the curb. Booth blew into his folded hands to keep them warm and to avoid conversation. He didn't know what to say. Pointing out the cab as it rounded the corner, he started grabbing bags up into his arms.

"Stop." Hannah commanded him.

Startled, he stopped. His mind raced as he tried to figure out what she meant by stop. Had she changed her mind, because if she did, he would have to tell her that is was over. That wasn't her confession.

"I, Seeley, I need to tell you something." The cab pulled up to the curb and the tired driver stumbled out. Booth froze, not sure that he could take more thing tonight. "Tonight, what happened, that was me, it was my fault." He looked confused. "I called you Booth. I did it to see what you'd do." As he tried to make sense of what she was saying, he felt flattened by a wave hurt and betrayal. Before he could answer, her belongings were loaded and she was ready to leave. Raising up on her tip-toes and kissed him on the cheek. "I loved you, Seeley, if things don't work with Temperance…" She let her voice drift off as she ducked in the cab. "See you later, soldier." Smiling, she winked as she closed the door and the cab drove away. He stood and watched until she rounded the corner.

Back in his apartment, he found himself slumped on the couch trying to catch up with the day. Rubbing his hands over his face, feeling the rough stubble on his palms as they ran back and forth, trying to breath. He didn't hear her when she came in, when she closed the door and walked softly into his living room. He didn't realize she was there until she came to rest beside him on the couch where they sat quietly looking straight ahead into the darkness of his apartment, just him and his Bones. Reaching out into that darkness, she grabbed his hand and squeezed it.

Her voice broke the silence, soft and sure. "Do you need time and space?"

"No." He answered softly as his head came to rest on her shoulder. "I need you."

ooooo0ooooo

_A/N I feel sort of spun about by the whirlwind of this story which has left me a bit wordless at the end of this chapter...but I wanted to say thank you for the tremendous response to this story and all the support and encouragement - I feel very humbled by it all. Rest assured there's at least one more chapter :)_


	5. Chapter 5

The dark of his apartment was oddly comforting. The weight of Booth's head on her shoulder, her head resting on his. His hand, which he'd adjusted, now wrapped around her smaller, more delicate hand. It felt safe. As the emotions of the day and prior weeks started to melt away, an overwhelming wave of exhaustion overtook them both. They tried to fight it, neither one wanting to move from this moment, this place where they sat on the couch, alone, together. But, as so often was the case, the voice of reason had to whisper its way into the night.

"You can't sleep on the couch, Booth, your back can't take it." He only groaned in response. How could he say he wanted her to stay? How could he say he was worried if he moved, if they moved, she'd leave? He didn't want to be alone, more specifically, he didn't want to be without her, not tonight.

She started to move.

"Stay." It was a loaded word, full of need and implications, some she understood, some she feared. At the same time, this is what she wanted, what she dreamed about in Maluku, hoped for on her return, mourned when she lost it. Her heart pounded out her fear as she stood, still holding his hand, she tugged him up and silently headed towards his bedroom.

Taking over, he led them to his bed where he sat and pulled her in front of him. His hands coming to rest on the back of her legs, he really took her in for the first time that evening. He smiled, almost chuckled. She stood before him in baggy bed pants, soft flannel with some kind of design lost in the darkness of the room, and one of his old FBI t-shirts he'd given her before Maluku, when she'd gotten soaked working a case and needed dry clothes.

"You came ready for bed." He teased.

"You worried me. I didn't care about what I was wearing, it wasn't a priority at the time." Letting his head fall to her chest, she wrapped her arms around his neck.

"What a mess." A long, deep sigh added force and emphasis to, quite possibly, the understatement of the year. Without adding more, he stood, forcing her back a step or two to maintain her balance. "We have a problem." He saw a flash of fear in her eyes. "It's okay, it's a small one. I won't let you sleep on my couch, you should have my bed, and I know you won't let me sleep on my couch." He paused for a minute, brushing the fine wisps of hair that had fallen from her ponytail, hoping she'd offer a solution.

"I'll stay with you." Leaning into his hand, feeling his thumb brush lightly across her cheek, her words came out breathy. Dropping his pants to the floor he climbed in bed, she came to lay next to him. It seemed like there was so much to say and so few words left to say them in. There was an underlying assumption in their actions, no specifics, no details, but a step towards something bigger. She settled in his arms, embracing his closeness. A few deep breaths and they would both tumble into sleep, too tired for anything else.

Fighting for consciousness, there was only one thing left he had to say. "We'll talk tomorrow, okay?" He wanted to reassure her. "About us, about trying for an us, tomorrow, I promise." His voice drifted off, she gripped tightly to his arms, holding him close as they let go and sunk into sleep.

They slept deep and hard, sounder than either had in ages. The blessings of a Saturday left them lazy, barely waking until late morning. By then, the light was streaming in, cutting ribbons of shadow across the bed. He woke first, the feel of her warm hand as it slipped under his shirt and along his chest, clenching his lungs closed. He wanted this, but he wanted this to work more. He was in this for more than a fling, he needed this, needed it to work. Throwing his head back on his pillow. he let her hand wander for just a few moments longer before waking her with a kiss to her forehead.

"Shhhh." She was reluctant. "No, Booth, shhhhh." Her hand patted his chest, trying to get him to stop. He pulled her tighter, her head nearly bounced on his chest as he laughed. "Shhhh...stop." She dragged each word out in a long whine which only encouraged more laughter. Rolling them to the side, he carefully moved the bits of her hair that had fallen out of her ponytail in the night. Blinking, she finally gave in.

He'd seen her like this a few times, on undercover assignments but this was different. He watched as her breath quickened, her hand stopped its explorations. Their long stare turned into soft smiles and a long, lazy morning kiss.

"We have to take this slow." His voice insistent, pleaded with her. "For us, we need to, okay?" Her gaze was steady and he felt her fingers wiggle against his skin as if she was fighting the urge for more as much as he was. "And no one knows, this is ours, it needs to be ours and ours alone, okay? No pressure from anyone else." She agreed with a slight nod. "Even Angela." He stopped and waited for a protest.

"Booth, I am not good at hiding things." She worried aloud. "I am _not _good at lying, honesty works better for me. Angela will pick up on it if I lie to her, she'll read our body language, she'll know."

"Well, we'll cross that bridge when we come to it, okay? For now, let's try to keep it a secret, our secret, you know, just until we settle into who we are as a couple or until she guesses."

"What about the FBI?" One of her biggest fear for years had been the thought of losing Booth as a partner. He looked into her fretful eyes, reached around her and pulled her closer. The soft hum she couldn't control nearly did him in. "No one knows until we're ready to tell them, not even the FBI. I'll work on that. They're not going to split us up, Bones, not the legendary Dr. Brennan and Agent Booth." His smile and light heartedness was calming, his touch irresistible. She found herself giggling as he tickled and kissed her until they fell into another kiss, so long and deep the only cure was to jump from the bed, forced separation.

News traveled fast, Hannah was gone, back in the Middle East. From the moment Booth entered the Medico-Legal lab on Monday, it was one offer of condolence after another. With the exception of Angela, who caught him watching Bones work through her glass office walls. His suit coat pulled back hanging loosely behind him, hands tucked casually in his pockets playing with one or another of the many distractions he kept there to fidget with.

"Congratulations on losing the blonde bimbo, big guy." Startling him, he looked a little shocked. "Maybe now you can fix it with this one." She didn't give him time to offer up an excuse, just kept walking. Obviously, she was still mad at him.

He was there to pick her up for lunch. They'd ridden together to a crime scene that morning in her car. She'd worried all the way to the Hoover that their conversation on the perfect murder had been too forced and already revealed changes in their relationship, even though they had yet to sleep together. He'd tried to calm her, but she was still nervous about her ability to convince her co-workers. When he'd called her mid-morning under the guise of an update on the case, she was even more upset having been asked to appear on a children's science show featuring her lab. That's when he decided they needed a getaway, even it was only for a short lunch. Maybe he could calm her down a little.

His heart broke when she matter of factly told him she'd be more likely to scare children away than encourage them towards science. She was always so strong, so stoic, that sometimes he forgot about that insecure side of her she hid so well. He'd been out of sync with her since their return to DC, her insecurity struck him twice as hard.

"People should stick to their strengths." And with that, every part of him wanted to wrap her in his arms and remind her that she hadn't even begun to discover her strengths. Sitting in the open gardens of the Jerffersonian made that impossible so he settled on reminding her of a concept she could never deny, evolution. It might not be her strength now, but she could evolve, it could become a strength. Offering up another selling point, he pointed that she could hide her nervousness about their changing relationship in her nervousness over being on the Science Dude's show.

On the way back to her office, he pulled her into a dark corner in the maze of hallways that ran through the Jeffersonian.

"Booth."

Whispering fast and firmly, not even inches from her face, he tried to reassure her. "You are amazing, you're intelligent and beautiful and talented and could do anything you set your mind to. You can do this. I will be there to support you, I promise." Then, he let his body fall on hers and kissed her soundly.

She could barely speak, light headed, swept away by his loving assault, but she managed to get out one word. "Cameras."

"Not here, you think I don't know every weak point in Jeffersonian security?" He leaned in and kissed her again. "For Parker, he'd love it, do it for Parker." In the end, all he got out of her was a hesitant agreement to consider it.

It wasn't until they were almost done with the case that she accepted the offer. Later, much later, after they shot the show, Booth teased her saying it was their impromptu make out session in the hallowed halls of that Jeffersonian that swayed her. Laughing, she rolled her head to try and see him from her position settled between his legs, laying up against his chest.

"I did it for Parker." He held his cell phone up so they could both see as they watched a clip her publisher shot with her cell phone of her performance. Pausing it, he let his arms come down around her. "And you, I did it for you too."

"Bones." There was a sweetness to his tone.

"I thought about what you said, and in addition to encouraging children to enjoy science, I felt that one day Parker may hesitate to do something because it is difficult or he does not consider it a strength. Since I am a mentor in his life, how could I encourage him to take risks if I could not do it myself."

He turned her slightly so he could kiss her. "And for me?"

She hesitated, then leaned in to kiss him, her heart pounding at the risk she was about to take. "Because," she whispered against his lips between kisses. "I love you." She hadn't said it, not since the night she lay sobbing in his arms over Hannah's presence and the horrible pain it had brought her.

Weeks and cases came and went. They lived up to their promise to each other to take it slow. Lunches and dinners became routine again. They stole time in the evenings, stayed late at each others apartments. On rare occasion they even stayed the night together, though they still hadn't made love. If Angela was suspicious, she never let on.

With each passing day, it got harder and harder to say goodnight and leave until finally it became a topic of discussion.

"I'm not planning when I'm going to make love to you, Bones, that's just wrong."

"Why is it wrong?" Frustrated and done with waiting to move their relationship forward, she wanted a date, a time, a place, something to hold on to.

"It just is, okay? It should be spontaneous and passionate, not planned and well executed."

"Booth."

"I'm sorry, okay, that wasn't fair but, Bones, I'm not scheduling it, we'll know when it's the right time. It'll just happen."

He was right. It happened just as he said it would. They attended the opening of a new exhibit at the Jeffersonian, The Amalia Rose, a slave ship that sank preserving a sad and disturbing piece of history. It was a beautiful night.

She was used to seeing him in a suit, but this night, this affair, seemed different. Her mind stuck in the loop of straightening his tie and smoothing her hands across his broad shoulders before they left her office to attend the exhibit reveal. It didn't help that he was right by her all evening. So close, she could feel the warmth of his breath on her neck and shoulders, his scent surrounding her. His hands seemed drawn to the silky fabric of her little black dress. It seemed she spent all night batting his hands away and reminding him, quietly, that they had a secret to keep. Answering in a low warm voice, he blamed her. She looked irresistible, gorgeous, and the way that simple dress fell over her curves was the essence of temptation. He couldn't stop himself, couldn't get close enough, or pull away. He was stuck in her her gravitational pull.

While Booth placed them carefully in the middle of the crowd so he could have a little more privacy and freedom, Jack and Angela Hodgins had been in the very back of the room where Angela had a perfect view of them. At first, she was just trying to locate all their team as they were spread out among the crowd. It was Booth's hand that caught her eye. One glimpse, her first glimpse, caught Booth with his hand moving fluidly from that small of Bren's back down the curve of her hip. It was executed with such ease and familiarity that Angela's eyes widened in absolute disbelief. How did she miss this? Elbowing Hodgins so hard he swore she dislocated a rib, her joy was almost palpable. She watched the couple more than the presentation that night, only giving Cam her full attention out of respect and support.

These events were always long and arduous, she hated them. The only bright side to this one was she didn't have to speak. Once the speeches and reveal were over they adjourned to another hall for the reception. Loud music and the chatter of hundreds of blended conversations made it hard to hear or think. This was the see and be seen part of the evening, rubbing elbows, shaking hands all seemed like painful obligations and distractions. Finally, he stole her away for a dance, pulled her tight to his body, and confessed in a hushed request delivered directly to her ear.

"Stay with me tonight." Certainly that was Booth's best definition of a date, a place, a time.

"Yes."

It wasn't long before they were excusing themselves in an effort to leave. During their goodbyes, Angela, in act of affection Hodgins attributed to pregnancy, threw her arms around Booth and quickly conveyed what she'd been dying to say all night.

"I see you fixed it." He just smiled and winked as she pulled away, moved his hand to the small of Bones' back and guided her out of the reception hall. The night was finally theirs.

She found the closer they got to Booth's apartment, the more anxious she got. His implication was clear, at least she thought it was clear, but then she wasn't good with interpreting things, which left an awful lot of room for doubt. She kept them to herself though, anxious to be alone with him. The city flew by out her passenger window, lights blurring together. It didn't seem like that long before they traded the busy lights of the city for the quiet and dim lights of his apartment. They were in and getting settled. He helped her off with her coat hanging it neatly, quickly, then, coming up behind her, he slipped his arms around her. She let her head fall back on his shoulder and rolled until she was tucked safely in under his chin.

"Have I told you how beautiful you are tonight?

She laughed. "Your hands did, all night." He swayed them back and forth in a slow gentle motion, his breath both tickled and evoked an overwhelming sense of need in her to be closer, to feel more of him.

"They were just getting warmed up." He teased. Then swallowing hard, he turned her around. Letting the back of his knuckles drag along the edge of her plunging neckline, feeling the cool silky fabric while barely grazing her warm sensitive skin. Her beautiful hum at the contact melted him. "I've wanted to do that all night, touch you right here." He let his fingers slide in a continuous motion as he watched her reaction, felt her grip onto his arms for support as she started to feel weak and dizzy. Pulling her close, he kissed and whispered his affections and desires, leaving her breathless.

Then he stopped and she caught his eyes, ready to beg for more. He looked so serious, he held her attention completely as she came to a sudden stillness in response. It was just them and the serenity of the night. She felt his hands on her back, his fingers fiddled with the zipper of her dress, their eyes still locked.

"Temperance." He breathed against her ear. He was asking, she knew he was asking.

"Yes, yes." Speaking softly, nodding, her whole body willing him to understand she wanted this, wanted him, needed him, accepted what he offered. Her shuddered gasps for air made it impossible to speak as she felt the long zipper of her dress give way, the roughness of his hands brushed down the length of her back.

He held her protectively close as he carefully lifted her dress off her shoulders and let it fall to the ground. Pulling, tugging, pushing at his clothes she worked feverishly to stand equally bare with him. Smiling, he enjoyed just a little too much how undone his touch had rendered her. He'd never seen her fingers fumble at anything before, but his tie, his belt, buttons, zippers, all proved difficult to manipulate. He didn't make it easy, continuing to touch, even intentionally tease her, as he distracted her on purpose.

"Booth." She warned him, but it only served as encouragement. He reminded her they had all night. This was not to be rushed, this was to be savored and they did. Each delicate curve and strong plain, each beautiful slope and firm muscle was tenderly explored and worshiped until their bodies begged to be closer, together, to be one and they couldn't resist any longer.

Watching carefully the expression on her face as they took that final step, he savored the look and feel of her. She pulled him close, held him with all her strength, clinging to that moment as she confessed in breathy whispers how long she'd secretly loved him, how long she wanted this moment, waited for it.

Lost in each other, in touch and feel and emotion, they let themselves be carried away until they collapsed on each other. Complete. Fulfilled. Exhausted. Their bodies, limbs, sheets, twisted and turned, woven together. The night was still again, just them, wrapped in each other.

"Bones." His voice broke the silence.

"Yeah."

"It was always love, I need you to know that." He wanted her to understand, to feel safe in his love, to know it wasn't fleeting or transitory. "From the moment I first saw you, it was love. I tried to ignore it, resist it, tried to stop but I never could. I even tried to love someone else, but I just couldn't help it, can't help it, I love _you_. It's always been you."

"I know, Booth." Reaching up she kissed him, a long, open, giving kiss. "I love you too."

In one smooth movement, he rolled them over, tucking her underneath him, settling so naturally between her legs. Burying his face in her neck, he whispered it again just below her ear, where she'd feel it vibrate throughout her whole body.

"It was love. It'll always be love with us."

ooooo0ooooo

_A/N: Well...thank you for going on this whirlwind ride with me through the emotional torture we call early season 6! I have been completely reassured that I'm not alone in my trauma from it all or my avoidance of those episode. Let me tell you I have re-watched those early episodes in writing this enough to last me a lifetime! I may never revisit it again._

_Thank you for all the wonderful compliments and encouragements and for reading my mental meanderings!_

_Hopefully I have left you satisfied with this last chapter...I would love to know! *hint hint*_


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